“Should be up ahead, I think.” Megan had been leading the makeshift expedition for the last few minutes as they trudged through Eternal Peace Cemetery. It was poorly maintained, with patches of long grass scattered everywhere. In fact, there were so few areas mowed that you might think the only maintenance came from the families who still bothered to visit. “Sorry, guys, just going by memory here.”

“No worries,” Levi said. “I’m getting some great footage.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll look great up on ‘the YouTube,’” she said, causing Levi to mouth to Jeremy, ‘The YouTube?’ Jeremy stifled a laugh, only to end up gagging.

“You okay?” Megan asked.

“I’m good, I think I, uh, swallowed a bug.”

As they walked, a palpable sense of unease settled over them. The overgrowth and disrepair of the cemetery made it an even more unsettling place. Large gothic angel statues loomed over them like silent sentinels, many missing heads or arms, which somehow made them even more disturbing. Megan led them past some underbrush to a small, secluded clearing in the back of the cemetery. The brush formed a kind of natural barrier, and when Jeremy looked back, it seemed like the cemetery stretched endlessly into the horizon.

“I think...yeah, this is it.” Megan stopped, pointing to a nondescript patch of dead grass, notable only because the surrounding grass looked a bit healthier—relatively speaking.

“Uh, how can you tell?” Levi asked.

Megan kneeled down, pushing some of the grass aside to reveal a large weathered stick protruding from the ground. A small silver locket dangled from one of the branches. Megan reached out to grab it. “Because I left this here the first time I came. After my dad told me about it.” She held out the heart-shaped locket for the rest of them to see. “I always thought it was weird it was unmarked,” she said with a sigh. “So I marked it.”

Jeremy knelt by the patch of grass, studying the area. “So she’s really buried here, huh?”

“That’s what my dad told me.” She shrugged. “I never actually checked, though.”

Jeremy grinned. “You getting this, Leev?”

“You bet your ass.”

“Let me get out of the shot.”

Levi hovered over the area, capturing as much as he could. Megan stood off to the side, arms crossed as the wind picked up. The grass and brush swayed like drunken children. Jeremy sidled up beside her, hands in his pockets.

After a moment, he asked, “Must’ve been crazy growing up here, sheriff’s daughter and all.”

She snorted. “You have no idea. I was quite the rebel, let me tell you.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled.

She gave him a look. “Oh yeah. I’ve actually wondered if that’s why I was drawn to Tommy—that rebellious streak.”

“And?”

“Ask again later.”

“Huh?”

“You never had a Magic 8-Ball?”

“Ohhh.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure that played a part. I really did care about him.” She let the silence hang for a moment, carried by the sharp wind that rustled the trees around them. Finally, she added, “Are you guys going to look for him?”

“Hm?”

“Tommy?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s the plan. We’re going to talk to his daughter Tracy after we’re done here.”

“Ah. Well, tell him I said hi, okay?”

“Sure. Do you know Tracy?”

She shook her head briefly. “No. Well—I mean, she works at the diner, so I know of her, sure.”

“You’ve never talked to her?”

“No!” She looked incredulous. “What would I even say? ‘Hi, I’m Megan. I used to date your dad back in high school.’” Jeremy’s eyes widened before he finally burst out laughing. Soon, Megan joined him, and they were both laughing uncontrollably.

Wiping away a tear, Jeremy managed, “Holy shit.”

“Seriously, what an awkward conversation that would be,” Megan said breathlessly.

Eventually, they both regained their composure, and the silence returned. “Do you want to come with us?” Jeremy asked.

“God, no.”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Ha. Fair enough.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m going to stay here and visit my dad after you two head out.”

Levi had continued filming, wandering a bit farther past the “marked” unmarked grave. Most of the area was undisturbed, nature untamed, as if people didn’t live just a few miles away. But there was one path—well-worn ground from repeated foot traffic. Levi wasn’t a scientist; he couldn’t say for sure how long it had been there or who had made it. He wasn’t even sure if it really was a path, but it made him uneasy, and the hairs on his neck stood up. He suddenly found himself taking a panicked look around but quickly realized how silly he was being. I’m being ridiculous, he thought. “Hey, guys? I’m good over here.”

“All right, dude, let’s head to the van!” Jeremy called back. Levi gave one last look at the so-called path before heading back to the others. The wind was really picking up now as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. An orange tint started to color the blue sky as brush, leaves, and grass were swept along by the wind. The group began their slow walk back to the cars.

“Well, Miss Garris, we really appreciate you showing us this,” Jeremy said.

“Oh, no problem. I hope it makes for some good TV.”

“So do we!” Levi added. As they walked on, the menacing angel statues from earlier seemed less threatening now—almost funny in retrospect. Megan began to slow as they reached a crossroads about halfway to the main gate. “All right, boys, my dad’s grave is this way.” She pointed to her right. “It was nice meeting you all. Tell Kelsey I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye.”

“Will do, Miss Garris.”

“Please, it’s Megan!” she called as she walked away, waving back at them.

“What a nice lady,” Levi said.

“Why don’t you marry her, bud?” Jeremy laughed as he walked toward the van.

“I feel like that was an attack on my character,” Levi said, catching up.

“Very perceptive, broseph.”

“Guess I’ll have to call HR or something.”

“Make sure you tell them about the time I rearranged the letters on your keyboard.”

----------------------------------------

The Mausoleum

The walk down the path felt lonely for Megan. Maybe I should have gone with them, she thought. This was probably the most eventful day she’d had in months—how sad was that? No, it was a good idea to keep that separation from Tracy. The thought of even talking to her about Tommy filled her with anxiety. Megan wasn’t normally an anxious person; quite the opposite, in fact. But Tommy was different. Anytime his name came up, or when she found herself reminiscing, she’d feel butterflies in her stomach, like she was sixteen all over again.

The wind began to calm, the debris settling back down to earth. Her family mausoleum loomed in the distance—not large or fancy, but it had housed her family for three generations. She somewhat hated it. It reminded her that, sooner or later, this would be her home for eternity. The fleeting feeling of invincibility, of living forever, also occasionally danced through her mind, only to be dashed by this stark reminder.

As she approached the structure, goosebumps rose on her skin—mostly because she really hated this cemetery. It was ridiculous how neglected it was, but no one cared anymore. Not caring seemed to define Crystal Lake ever since the two massacres took away all hope along with the victims.

Megan fumbled with the key to the gate, having added about ten more keys to her ring since her last visit. She heard twigs crack behind her but barely registered it over the rustling of the trees. She narrowed it down to three keys that looked similar, finally finding the right one. Should have gone with my gut! she thought.

Inside, she was greeted by a cacophony of spider webs and choked down a shriek—I’m an adult, damn it. Internment niches lined the walls, rows of plaques detailing who lay behind each. Megan walked over to the last two niches in a row on their own. She sighed as she read, “Here lies Mike and Sally Garris, reunited at last.” She fought back tears, but one slipped down her cheek. “Hi, Daddy, Mom,” she whispered. “I miss you guys.”

She touched the plaque reverently before composing herself. “Oh, you’d love this, Dad—I had a news crew interview me about the V’s.” The “V’s” was Megan’s shorthand for the Voorhees murders whenever her father was in earshot. He’d grown tired of hearing about it long before she ever moved back. He didn’t care to hear about Pamela or Jason, because it usually led to his least favorite topic: Tommy Jarvis. That boy is sick, Meggie, he’d often say, which only drove her closer to Tommy. He eventually mellowed with age but still preferred never to hear those names again. Megan reveled in needling her father, so she relished the chance to do so now. For old time’s sake, she thought.

“Yes, Tommy came up, in case you were wondering.” This conversational tone was something she’d adopted during the grieving process after her father’s death. She’d struggled deeply after losing her mother to a bus accident and was determined not to fall into the same despair. A grief counselor had suggested talking to them, as if they were still there—keep them alive that way. She didn’t fully buy it, but it made her feel better, and that was all that mattered. “Yes, I did bring him up first,” she snorted, imagining her father rolling his eyes and giving her that look all parents mastered.

“Anyway, they actually sought me out because of my history and background. See, I told you that degree would come in handy.” She winced at the thought of him freaking out over the fact that her degree’s utility came from this. Even in her imagination, her father was scary when angry. “Honestly, they seem like they’re doing more of a ‘Robert Stack thing’ about the town—JV came up, but I don’t think it’s the main focus. They seem like good, curious people, not like the leeches you dealt with. Of course, you’d probably call them fake news, I bet.” She rolled her eyes.

“I know I should come more. I know it stinks that I’m here today because of my ‘obsession.’ I just hate this place.” She shook her head. “God, if I could, I’d move you somewhere else—but I get it, this was your wish.” She wiped away some dust and cobwebs from the plaque. “If anything, I’ll come more often just to clean this place up—gross.”

As she finished, a shadow filled the gate, plunging her into darkness. Heavy, labored breathing echoed through the space, sounding like it was filtered through an obstruction. Megan turned, her eyes locking on the massive figure now blocking the exit.

With light filtering from behind, she could make out nothing but its size—broad shoulders heaving with every breath, a round face obscured in darkness. Despite everything, she knew exactly what it was.

She had spent too much time with Tommy Jarvis not to.

Before she could react, the mass engulfed her. Weathered hands clamped around her throat, squeezing. Megan pounded at it with frantic fists, but it didn’t react. It only grunted as its fingers tightened, snapping tendons and bones. Then, as if bored, it slammed her into the mausoleum wall. Again. And again. And again.

It paused as her body went limp, then tossed her over its shoulder and walked out. Blood spattered across the back wall, dripping heavily, covering the plaque behind which her parents lay. The mass scanned the area, head cocked to the side. Megan’s eyes were wide open, lifeless. Her neck was grotesquely crushed, with deep grooves where the fingers had been. Heavy footfalls slowly faded as it disappeared into the forest. Megan wasn’t the only one visiting today.

Ki-ki-ki. Ma-ma-ma.